Slipstream
by infiniteviking
Summary: Zangetsu is the answer to a riddle Ichigo hasn't figured out how to ask. Introspective oneshot, because the series needs more of this character.


**Slipstream**

Sometimes Ichigo imagines that his footsteps have an echo. He's always shaken the feeling off, and is never sure whether it's there because he imagines it, or whether he recognizes it because it is real.

Sometimes he turns, frustrated, sensing or glimpsing a still presence at the periphery of his vision. There's never anybody to confront, and nobody answers when he grumbles at the silence.

Sometimes, kneeling on a rooftop with the sun on his neck, he feels a shadow pass over him -- neither cold as a raincloud nor ever really blocking off the light.

It's probably nothing, but he can't be quite sure.

-

Unconscious manifestation, Yoruichi had called it. Whatever it had been, it wasn't the same as what had happened in the cavern where he had achieved his _bankai_. Time had slowed, maybe even stopped; Kenpachi hadn't even turned around until Ichigo was back on his feet. But it was one of the only two times Zangetsu's spirit form had walked freely in the outer world.

Both times, his sole attention had been on Ichigo.

The boy hadn't noticed at the time -- perhaps because he was busy nearly bleeding to death -- but he realized later how completely disinterested Zangetsu was in his surroundings... even when his own realm had been falling apart.

-

He frequently finds himself wishing he could reach their strange, sideways inner world on his own initiative. It isn't fair that it only ever happens in a crisis, when there's no time and everyone is in a lousy mood. Perhaps it's part of the _zanpakutou_'s nature to be so honed to a singularity of overwhelming purpose, but being on the receiving end of that stare could be downright scary.

He also wishes the old man wouldn't be so darned temperamental. No, that's not quite it -- Zangetsu's cool as a blade when he's got something to say, but there's always more to his silences than his words.

(They're coming from all sides; there's no way to take them all down at once. One at a time, just like triage, as his father might have said in between running gags. He fights to keep the mental image from distracting him.)

_Ichigo._

_I know. I'm working on it._

(Silence.)

_Hey! Don't go thinking I'm giving up--_

-

Sometimes he worries that he isn't doing enough. Strike that -- it's something he won't admit he worries about _all_ the time.

He lies back, hands knotted behind his head, scowling at the ceiling and wondering if there's something he just isn't getting, some magical way to turn the connection back on itself. Getting stronger isn't something that only happens once. He's learned so much from so many, and not least from the old man. But when he tries to break through, there's no response.

It isn't fair. He wants to learn more.

-

The footsteps still follow him, nearly simultaneous with his own. It isn't hard to shut them out. Sometimes he doesn't, and spends too much time trying to determine whether they're really there.

If it wasn't so easy to slip out of his body and hurtle invisibly over the city, a black sword sheathed in white cloth at his back, he could shut his eyes and pretend none of it had ever happened.

But the sword has saved his life too many times for that.

_There. Behind you._

(Fire exploding from his hands, and the black blade singing.)

_Don't underestimate me, old man. I saw that coming._

(Silence. But Ichigo knows what it means.)

-

On occasion, he wonders where his _zanpakutou_ came from, and how long he waited before Ichigo could finally hear his name. He has a feeling, though, that if he asked, Zangetsu would turn the lesson into another aggravating test, and he has better things to do than get randomly attacked by his Hollow side while the old man makes emotionless faces at him until he figures out what's going on.

To be honest, though, he does tend to deal with most of his problems by glaring or attacking them.

The realization makes him uncomfortable. It's _his_ inner world, after all.

-

Fortunately, there's usually too much going on to think about it a lot. He knows better than to wonder whether the silence is all in his head.

_____


End file.
